Hello, my name's Aliya and welcome to my fan-written, yet extensive ending for Castlevania: Lords of Shadow 2. Personally speaking, I loved this installment to bits (tw: unpopular opinion), and it's actually the first game that inspired me to pick up writing. And so, I decided to expand on the official narrative of the game with some itty-bitty headcanons that had wormed their way into my brain back in April 2014. Well, I really hope you'll enjoy this wild ride just as I enjoyed writing it! :)

One thing you should know before r&r: I am not a native English speaker. Therefore there could be grammar/punctuation mistakes hidden in the story, but I think I'm steadily getting better at this. Heh. Also I find it decidedly hilarious there's at least two more Castlevania fics called "Rebirth" out there.

P.S.: Do note that this is the revamped, edited version of this fic, meaning longer chapters, fixed typos, and bonus content.

January 28th, 2017: Chapters 1 & 2 edited.
April 2nd, 2017: Chapter 3 edited (major overhaul).

Castlevania (c) Konami, MercurySteam

Uncertainty gnawed at her soul like a hungry parasite.

With her slim fingers tracing symbols into the yearlong layer of dust, she picked up a bronze candlestick with her other hand. Seconds later, a weak light began its dance on the sleek surfaces of many goblets, plates and ancient weaponry stored in equally-old cabinets and cupboards. Despite a faint draft whistling through the cracks, it could not stir up the decades worth of grime and dirt which had taken hold of this part of the church. The flame barely illuminated the small chamber, but it was enough for now.

Marie Belmont or – how she was known amongst Heaven's Chosen – the Keeper of the Dragon, made her way to the door on the opposite side of the room, mindful of any obstacles obscuring her path. When she finally reached the unfolding steps, she knew she was heading the right way. Being the immortal Keeper, she had all the time she needed to explore the tangible illusion of the castle and the city, built directly on its damned foundations... and yet she had not visited this area before. Now her senses were telling her that the ones she sought stood on the very rooftop of the church it all had begun from. Where the Dragon had awoken from his once-perpetual sleep.

Markings in the dust had indicated that the door had been opened before, and quite recently too. She set aside the half-melted candle and examined the door. Not only had it been opened for the first time since the construction of the once-proud house of God, but its hinges had been thoroughly oiled. The black gooey substance glittered in the candle-flame. If they had been rusted from decades of disuse, Marie knew she would not have been able to force her way through. Now the door surrendered without a single hitch, without a single noise.

Sunlight poured into the chamber, setting even the grimiest of goblets aglow. Of all things, sunlight had been widely considered to be the ultimate bane of any creature of the night, yet Marie knew it posed no threat to her husband. However, while the Prince of Darkness was not directly affected, his Heir could not boast of the same.

Noon had entered its domain not long ago, its heavenly rays of warmth reawakening the almost extinguished hope in the hearts of the people. In a single night, the city's streets were disfigured by such atrocities it had never dreamed of before: legions of demons had invaded this plane of existence, with one thought in mind: to sow death and destruction. For only when chaos and disorder have taken a hold of a society, could the King of Hell be summoned. Five hours had passed since that fateful calling and now, tired of living in fear of the unknown, people of Wygol emerged from hiding out into the smoky ruins of their city. Blissfully ignorant of the truth. For only a few people of this earth knew of what had transpired when the Devil had finally stepped upon this plain. Marie was one of them.

Two figures stood in the shadow – short as it might be – of one of the church's towers. One, a white-haired warrior encased in a protective jet black shell of an armor, the other wore a crimson coat embroidered with gold and silver trimming.

Watching them made Marie's heart skip a beat. Neither of them had noticed her arrival and kept talking, most likely reflecting on the past. The woman could not be sure: whatever words they uttered were lost in the wind. A deep breath combated her nauseous feeling of apprehension.

Only when she approached them, hem of her brilliant white dress whispering against the rock, did they turn around. Watching their shocked faces... Marie could not hold back a smile. "It is so good to see you two bonding. Fills my heart with joy."

"Marie?" The Prince of Darkness seemed puzzled, yet genuine relief surfaced in his voice. "I was worried. Ever since the book and the Throne Room... I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"I am here, Gabriel; I am always here." She approached him, a smile quirking her lips. "Even when you think I'm not."

Gabriel's pallid face lit up and Marie could feel his smirk widening, even as she gave the white-haired warrior a tight hug, mindful of the sharp ridges of his armor.

"How have you been, Mother?" he said, returning the embrace. "Ah, this reminds me. Mother has been helping me on my quest to recover your relics, Father."

"Truly?" The former knight gave her an adoring glance. "Then it seems she's not a figment of my imagination after all."

"I'm fine." Marie's lips twitched. "But how are you, Trevor? I've been told you were... were possessed by the Devil for a spell."

"I was," Trevor – who had adopted a new name for himself: Alucard, the Wolf – replied, albeit a bit curtly. "After the Leviathan perished in a burst of light, I was knocked unconscious and Lucifer seized the oppo-"

"No-no, do not try to explain." Marie raised her hands. "I'm not here to blame you, my boy."

Indeed, the Devil had tried evening the scales by challenging his arch-nemesis to a duel in the sky whilst controlling the body of his son, like a puppeteer pulling a marionette's strings. After suffering a crippling defeat, Satan tried saving his own hide by whisking his form away. Unfortunately for him, the legendary Vampire Killer, the only weapon sanctified by God Himself, found his black heart first. However, only the destruction of his material form – one of harpy-like legs and jet-black wings – followed. Lucifer's soul, most likely, was exiled to Hell once more.

"Luckily, he won't bother us any longer." Gabriel's – who, at the moment, donned the title of Dracul, the Dragon – smirk became just a little bit vicious. "It took him one thousand years to prepare this invasion, now it will take him three, if he decides to show his face again."

"Where do you think he is now?" Alucard blew a strand of hair out of his face.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully back in whatever cesspool he calls home."

"Perhaps. Although, I think Lucifer will not try to reclaim his throne on earth, or his place in Heaven after today."

"Never underestimate the fallen angel's stubbornness."

Marie listened to her men conversing, smiling widely. Just how soothing their voices sounded after all this time. Being the Keeper meant she had unlimited power of observing them, but she lacked the authority to interact with either of them. The vow had been lifted when Alucard pulled out the enchanted blade – his trusty Crissaegrim – out of Dracul's chest and set their plan in motion.

"What happens now? Do you have any plans?" she politely inquired of her family, involuntarily fidgeting with the sleeves of her dress.

"Now?" The elder vampire raised an eyebrow. "I haven't really thought about it. The battle concluded not several hours ago." His eyes widened. "Why do you ask? Is there a problem?"

Marie startled – were her emotions written so blatantly on her face? "Sadly, yes." She bowed her head and breathed in to keep her heart from racing needlessly. "There is something I need to tell you. Something I did not have the time to say the first time we met."

Dracul and Alucard exchanged worried – distressed even – looks.

She sighed before speaking up, ineffectually trying to keep her voice steady. "You see, long before-" she gestured at the smoky ruins of Wygol city,"-all... this, I have been appointed the Keeper. The Watcher. I have kept you safe, my love, whilst you slept. I did not allow anyone to disturb your rest. But now..." Her voice turned wistful against her will. "The King of Hell has been vanquished and there is no purpose for me, anymore. I am… my soul is trapped within the castle halls."

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Gabriel finally spoke up, "Is there a way to set you free?"

"There is. I've heard of an artifact; its power, legends say, can break all spiritual bonds, all earthly chains. But… but, Gabriel, would you do this?" A shiver ran down her spine. "I can stay, I truly can! By your side. Til… til the very Heavens do us part."

Back when the dreaded Lords of Shadow were just dethroned and the Devil exiled from the primal plane, he had pleaded, begged her to stay. To not enter Heaven, to live with him just like before. Before her death. Even after her premature departure and the return of the God Mask to its rightful owner, she could hear him finally collapse to his knees, cry and scream hopelessly at the skies. Could their tale have been forged differently if she'd had the power to stay? Marie bit her lip: she knew the answer was no. Gabriel's ruin was predestined by forces, higher than Lucifer himself. He would have fallen nevertheless, with or without the Forgotten One's power.

And yet... especially after centuries of mute observation Marie had noticed just how much her husband had changed. Bizarrely enough, in an unambiguously good way. A constant frown woven into his brow had disappeared, the red light in his hellish eyes had died out. He smiled more and with each passing hour she could see more and more of her Gabriel – the man she had fallen in love with – and less of Dracul – the twisted creature she had come to internally despise.

Marie flinched when he briskly moved closer; Gabriel was just a bit taller than her, but he still managed to tower over her. He cupped her hands into his, mindful of the claws adorning his fingers.

"Marie." Hot weather hadn't stopped goosebumps from prickling her skin. "Everything I did… I did for you. But now I only want you to be happy – you deserve it." His smile was feigned, she could see that. "And I know I cannot provide that."

He was letting her go? After all what happened, he was letting her go? He had set out on his quest solely because of her; he said it himself. He cared not for the world nor its problems... and now this... she barely believed her ears.

"Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?" She swallowed her tears.

"Yes." He leaned in and let their foreheads touch, his ice against her fire. She felt short of breath. "I love you more than anything else in this world. You have given me a reason to live. You are a perfect woman who had gifted me with an equally perfect son. You gave me so much. You sacrificed so much. Well..." He paused to draw breath. "Now I repay my debt."

"I will find a way," Marie murmured. "I will find a way for you both to join me in this eternal celebration of life. I promise."

Gabriel did not reply, instead holding her gaze steadfast... and it brimmed with heartache. With dismay. His thumb gently wiped away her tears – when had she begun weeping? – staining her cheeks.

"Now... where can I find this item?" His cold hands slid down her shoulders.

"We. Where can we find this item?" Shuffling footsteps, followed by a clank and, Alucard stepped forward, his golden eyes solemn. "There is no way I would leave Mother in the grasp of the castle's demon."

A surge of pride resurfaced in Marie and her mouth melted into a gentle grin. "The castle holds the key. That is everything I know at the moment. Perhaps more details will show up whilst you proceed. Sorry, I'm not much of a help."

"Nonsense, Marie-

"But you helped us-"

"I can grant you access whenever you are ready." Her smile grew in strength at their indignant expressions and determined nods. She let out a small laugh as a faint light blinked into existence right into her palm. She had transported Trevor in such a fashion before, but not Gabriel. "Just take my hand, my love."

A cloak of periwinkle light whirled up around them, shrouding them in its radiance. A blink and they were gone, sent back to the mirage of the once impenetrable fortress.

Illusions and apparitions could easily betray one's eyes in this place.

A creature of chaos had made the castle its home, centuries before the Lords of Shadow had come. It had been said that the Bernhard family, who originally owned the structure, had made a pact with a demonspawn to deter unwanted visitors from their lands. The Bernhards' innate ability to wrestle vicious monsters from their home plane – one of which had been the Sovereign, the greatest of demons! – had proved to be essential to their plan.

The fiend had merged with the very stony foundations of the castle, bringing them to life. Corridors and tunnels shifted everyday, making it impossible to map. During Carmilla's reign, many a knight of the Brotherhood had perished in their futile attempts to do so. They had either starved to death or fell prey to the legions of the Vampire Queen. The castle itself had appeared to be passive, for it lacked the power to intervene.

Carmilla had shrugged off any the creature's attempts to bind her to the structure, preferring to retain her independence. It made her mortal; even as a vampire, she could die at the hands of another. So it was prophesied, and so it happened. The Queen met her premature end at the hands of Gabriel Belmont, a Champion of God.

The infernal creature pitied not Carmilla, or her adoptive 'daughter.' Without a Lord roaming its halls, the castle fell into a slumber.

Its sleep would have lasted centuries, if not for unforeseen consequences. The Sovereign had tried breaching the final seal, fueled by rage for centuries of captivity, but the Champion had stopped his progress. The demise of his fellow fiend did not affect the structure, instead, it had focused its immediate attention on the single human being in its corridors. Deaf and dying, the man's failing legs had carried him only so far before he had succumbed to his wounds. His entire frame – dead as it might be – had pulsed with familiar power. The demon instantly recognized it as the Sovereign's, its former master's. Intrigued, the being had shifted its influence to the dead man, but before it could tap into his power, he had risen. The same curse that had plagued the former Queen and sustained by the blood of her daughter, now had taken roots in this human.

The man had roamed, endlessly and aimlessly, unaware of his surroundings, completely overtaken by the eternal hunger of the undeath. The castle's demon had dogged his every footstep and had become his shadow, unavoidably drawn to the source of the power like a moth to a flame. It had recognized the man: it had been the same knight who had put an end to Carmilla's reign. Carmilla had dismissed its gifts, but this human was weak, disoriented, had no true realization of the strength he had stolen. The demon then had gnawed and chewed on the man's thoughts – replacing damaged ones, making its own mind his - until its very essence had fused the man's soul, essentially making him the demon's puppet.

A puppet with carefully hidden strings, so the doll would not even guess his actions were being controlled. The castle brimmed with delight – it finally had a master. A catalyst which would slake its hunger for power and freedom.

"I... I don't recognize this place," Dracul said, glancing about. "I've never been in this part of the castle before."

Alucard frowned. "Many centuries have I spent memorizing every stone of this place, but, like you, I am clueless about our whereabouts. Where do you think Mother has sent us?"

Gray walls, devoid of any decoration, stared back at them. The mosaic once adorning the floor had crumbled to dust beyond recognition. Moonlight glittered through the multitude of holes in the ceiling. Other parts of the castle boasted of exquisite tapestries, rugs, and statues. And this hallway... it created a fleeting impression of someone having removed all the decoration on purpose. Because the place was abandoned? Why would the demon lock off this wing? Certainly not because of its decrepit state.

"Gives off an impression of a gallery," the elder vampire noted. "It looks like as though, art had enriched this wing with its vibrancy. Once."

Alucard slowly nodded. "Best we move forward. It seems the castle hasn't noticed us on its territory yet. I've had my share of jailer-slaying for one day."

"Indeed. Its avatar may be destroyed, but it still holds sway over the legions."

Their footsteps scraped against the cracked floors, unsettling a brood of bats nesting in one of the fissures. Leathery wings throbbed against the air, and soon their chirping was silenced by the wind. Its symphony sounded as it should, but the end took on a shrill note. Now it resembled a distorted scream.

"Did you hear that?" Alucard stopped in his tracks.

"Yes." Gabriel warily scanned their surroundings. "Obviously the serene appearance of this art gallery cannot be wholly trusted."

Wind murmured along his voice, as if listening to it. It bubbled, hissed before altering itself into a deep, all-too familiar tone.

"Is it really you?" The words resonated from the walls, echo over-layering in wondrous patterns. "What, came to gloat at the former Sovereign of Darkness?"

That voice, coupled with its peculiar choice of words, had haunted him for many years – Gabriel identified its owner in mere seconds. The revelation did not amuse him, but more so baffled him.

"Forgotten One?" he questioned the wind, keeping his voice calm.

Another shrill scream interrupted whatever the archfiend had to say – or, perhaps, it was his own distorted cry? – and the apparition vanished as boldly as it appeared. Dracul stared for a few seconds, before shrugging off the surprise.

"Forgotten One?" Trevor repeated in a curious tone. "That's the demon who had threatened the erasure all of mankind, right?"

The elder startled. "How do you know about him? The battle happened when you were just a mere infant!"

Words could not express how much he had loathed seizing the demon's power. Was it the only possible outcome in defeating the creature? During all these years he, had justified his actions by stating he had done so to protect the humanity, but he knew it not to be true. And the three-century war that followed had only proven it.

"Back in the Order, I stumbled across a few books on him in the restricted area of the libary. Plus I noticed an inscription in one of the rooms while carrying out my duty of restoring your Chaos power."

"An inscription... The only mention of him I made..." Gabriel's shoulders sank. "Where exactly did the castle hide Chaos?"

Alucard gave a weak smile. "Mother described it as the place 'where you had lost your mind after defeating the Forgotten One.'"

"The Forbidden Wing?" Dracul recoiled. "You've been to the Forbidden Wing?"

"If you prefer to call it that."

"Trevor, it's forbidden for a reason! What did you see there?"

"Plenty of things. Heard a lot, too."

Gabriel stared back at Trevor in mild surprise and disbelief before snapping back to reality. His son made it clear: he wouldn't elaborate on what he had witnessed in that particular part of the castle. In the end, he chose to focus his attention on the more important matter: the unexpected revival – recovery? – of his old adversary.

"We should move," he stated, glancing in the direction of the resonating voices. "Honestly, I am curious at the demon's sudden arrival."

"As am I," Alucard muttered.

A dying echo guided the vampires towards a passageway, framed by crumbled statues of demi-humanoid demons. Was the Forgotten One leading them into a trap? The former Sovereign had proven to be quite blunt and straightforward in their first – and admittedly, last – encounter. Still, whatever means had resurrected the creature could have made him more devious and somber. Many a winter had passed since they battled.

"Has the castle always looked like this?" Alucard's tone became a hushed whisper.

Indeed, the hallway appeared... different from what he had come to expect from the castle's sentient cobblestone in the centuries he'd spent in its embrace. Peculiar swirls, circles, and soft, edgeless shapes covered the walls in its intricate alien pattern. They alone visually broadened the narrow twists of corridors running into the depths of the structure. He raised his head – similar teardrop shapes adorned the otherwise ruined ceiling. For a moment, Dracul mused on their design: the forms reminded him of the ridges on the Forgotten One's colossal armor. Had he managed to alter the very stones despite his alleged destruction? How could the castle not notice this?

They followed the flowing ornamentation, each of their steps forcing other bizarre things to resurface. The hall bathed in a multitude of green and violet lights, which emanated from crystallized drops of unknown liquid on the walls. They seemed to grow out of the very stone itself, biting at the surrounding darkness like a hound with a thirst for blood.

Soon enough, the passageway evolved into a grand alcove, flooded with colors of such brilliancy, it made Gabriel's – accustomed to inky blackness – eyes water. As his sight adapted to the vibrancy, details came into view, such as a gargantuan stony representation of his old foe in the center of the chamber. The Forgotten One had one of his hands outstretched, as if reaching for Heaven, while the other remained at his side. Identical to the ones they had seen earlier, teardrops adorned the smooth curves of his enameled armor.

"Ah, here you are. I did not anticipate your visit. Or your scion's," the being intoned, voice radiating from the statue. "State your business, thief."

Gabriel disregarded the insult. "Shouldn't you be dead, creature?" He couldn't help but feel skeptical at this turn of events – he had undone the demon's life in a single swipe. And, yet, here he was – or rather the fiend's image – in his castle. Part of him sternly believed it was just a masterful illusion on the castle's part. Like the love-struck version of its former owner, Carmilla.

"I am dead," the Forgotten One replied. "I ceased to exist when you stole my powers and killed me."

"And still you are able to voice your thoughts."

The demon hummed. "The blood and soul of your victims feed the creature trapped inside this infernal place and, much as it is disgusts me, I became the first. But as it turned out it could only consume insignificant souls – human souls, to be precise. Me, being the Sovereign, a beast of immense power, it could not devour. In response, it imprisoned my soul in its stone. Or... this is how I understand it. I loathe that the creature originated from the same plane as I did."

"So, this is your soul I am conversing to?" No matter how intently he listened to the demon's words, Dracul could not place any malice or hatred in his voice. The Forgotten One sounded more... pensive? Still, he decided not to let his guard down. He glanced at his son. Alucard held his hand on the Crissaegrim's hilt – he had returned to wielding his chosen blade, – brow furrowed.

"In a sense. And you're still in one piece." His voice was heavy with languor. "Just how many of your human 'years' have passed since our fateful fight?"

The demon's lethargic tone made Dracul raise an eyebrow. "Over one thousand."

"Intriguing. Time flows steadily within these bounds. No beginning, no end."

"Why would Marie send us to him of all creatures?" Dracul addressed Alucard quietly. "He's a monster who threatened to wipe out humankind, once."

"I know." The white-haired warrior nodded in agreement. "But, perhaps he possesses the knowledge we seek."

"I highly doubt that."

"What other reason would Mother direct us to him for? Worth a shot, I say." Trevor appeared inexorable, much to Gabriel's sorrow.

"What is it that you seek?" A familiar low note settled down in the Forgotten One's voice.

"An item. An artifact which can break any kind of bond any kind of chain tangible, or not." Alucard stepped forward, not letting his eyes off the demon.

The archfiend went silent. Only a faint hum emanating from his stony features proved he had not distanced himself from the vampires. "You seek the Trumpet, then," he eventually said, obviously choosing his words.

"A trumpet?" Why did it sound so familiar?

"Not an ordinary Trumpet, Gabriel. The instrument once belonged to one of Heaven's Chosen... incidentally, your namesake, I believe. It was stolen by Lucifer when he first fell. So God could not intervene with his business. God is omniscient and omnipotent, yes, but even He cannot descend to Earth without it."

Oh, that's why. The legendary trio of saintly Archangels – Raphael, Michael and Gabriel – called Heaven their home and according to the Book of Revelations, the being he was named after would blow his trumpet to announce the Judgment Day. The Lord's second coming to this land. A moment when the dead would rise and there would be no further separation of Heaven and Earth. Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on the perspective – he had taken care of the latter prior these events.

"I am truly surprised you're acquainted with the Bible, creature. Our one and only book of God... ironically, written by men." He placed his hands on his hips.

"I'm pleasantly surprised, Father," Alucard said with a slight smile. "Don't you harbor any hatred towards it?"

"No hatred lasts forever." He shifted his shoulders as he faced the Forgotten One. "Where can we find the Horn?"

"I do not know where its resting place lies," the One said. "Unlike the Mask you spent so long to retrieve, it's not of this plane. You are required to enter other realms to find that, what you seek," he trailed off.

The pause the demon took after uttering the last sentence filled Gabriel with disquiet. Yet he said nothing, waiting for the fiend to, presumably, recover.

"I believe your power is more than capable of ripping through the matter of reality," he stated after the heavy silence turned unbearable.

"In my hands, yes," the Forgotten One quickly corrected him. "You, on the other hand, can manifest only the tiniest particle of my strength."

"If you're alluding to-"

"I'm not alluding to anything. I am fully aware I cannot reclaim the elements which you have snatched under my nose. However, my secondary powers can still be of some use."

"Secondary powers?" The Dragon's mouth twitched.

"I created not only Chaos and Void, but also their sisters: Harmony and Creation." The demon's voice became smug. "If combined, they could forge entire landscapes, bring to pass new creatures. I have used my primary skills to shatter the seal of my damned prison. That's why you wield only them."

"Where are Harmony and Creation now?"

"They are the only influences keeping me stable in this husk, so, I presume, they are not far. The castle certainly has an odd sense of humor, and hid them near me to prolong my cursed existence."

"And how can these energies help us?" He tapped a pointy finger against his lips, intrigued.

"You, personally?" Aspiration showed through the demon's otherwise emotionless voice. "Not much. Combining two opposite forces seldom ends well. On the other hand, if I am to reunite with them, I could reconstruct my body and leave this place far behind."

Gabriel let out a half-amused chuckle – leave this place far behind? After the humiliation that was his defeat in the Underworld? The One must have grown morose and hopeless to actually propose a deal like this. Yet, he decided to hold back the acidic response rolling off his tongue.

"And what do you offer in return for your freedom?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alucard giving him an incredulous glare, and he shrugged lazily.

"Passage to your goal."

His laughter died out, giving way to a suspicious stare. Had he heard the demon correctly?

"You have stated that only the Void can open-" he began.

"I never said that the Void is the only thing which can transport you." The Forgotten One sounded pleased. "Let's just say... I have managed to salvage one of my artifacts from the castle's clingy mitts. It isn't as accurate as the Void, but, frankly, you have no choice in the matter."

The last sentence raked coarsely across the vampire's ears. He never had freedom of will in anything, it seemed. Always tugged on the leash, like a pup, while others guided him inevitably to his destiny. In the end, he decided not to dwell on these cheerless thoughts – he had already dedicated a few decades solely to them – and concentrated instead on the demon's words.

"You are just a fraction of your soul and you possess the means of entering new dimensions?" He tapped the knuckles of his hand against the hip.

"Oh, believe me, Gabriel; never underestimate what a mere fraction of one's soul can do," the Forgotten One said. "So, do we have a deal? You free me of this husk and I leave you and your scion to whatever noble quest you initially set out on. With the means of getting where you need."

"I don't trust you." Dracul rewarded his old foe with a dark glare. "You'd stab us in the back, given half of an opportunity."

The demon lowered his voice to a murmur. "You would be surprised to know that I have absolutely no intention of betraying you. Consider: you defeated me without my powers. Guess what would happen, if I attacked you? It is ludicrous, impossible. And I am a prudent being: I would not throw my second chance away because of some petty revenge. It is Lucifer who is known as the King of Lies. I, myself, tend to keep my promises."

"Care to give an example?"

"Gladly. Your presence alone proves that at least one of my, ahem... boasts during our battle came true. 'You shall suffer. You will never find peace in light, nor darkness?' Sound familiar?"

"How droll," the elder vampire muttered under his breath. He glanced at Alucard and sighed. "Fine. We will retrieve your powers so you could send us to other realms."

"Splendid!" The Forgotten One's tone picked up. "Do not dally. I want to get out of this shell as much as you want to attend to your Trumpet business."

"Do you trust him?" Alucard crossed his arms.

"Not in the slightest," Dracul replied. "Unfortunately, the Forgotten One has perfected a win-win scenario for himself. He will free himself of the shell, either way. Of course, we have the choice of declining his offer..." He pursed his lips. "I would rather not get tangled in whatever design the demon is hatching, but we don't have an alternative."

Alucard nodded, a determined glint in his amber eyes. "Then we will comply with his wishes, for a bit. See where it gets us."

"Frankly, I am not afraid of him backstabbing us," the elder said. "If it comes to that, I will be sure to destroy him permanently. But, the time we desperately need. It would slip through our fingers."

"Indeed, the castle never sleeps. We must hurry."

The vampires obediently followed a glittering trail etched in the metamorphosed floors, as well as walls and ceiling, courtesy of the imprisoned one. Its arrhythmical pulse reminded Gabriel of a heartbeat - where had the Forgotten One drawn inspiration for this? He was sure the demon lacked anything even closely resembling a heart. A core, perhaps?-

Gabriel knew not the One's true motivation for trying to erase mankind... beside vengeance, of course. Revenge was indeed a powerful emotion, but ultimately flawed. After he had carried out the mission, exiling Lucifer and his ilk to the deepest crevice of Hell, and sending Zobek to the Netherworld, he had had all the time in the world to think on his goals. He had paid a terrible price, and made sure others did so, as well. And, now... He couldn't banish the thought of the emptiness of his life.

"Oh, great." Trevor's muttered breath made him jolt. "It seems our conversation has not gone unnoticed."

A puddle of oily blood bubbled and foamed on the ground, gradually drowning the hallway in its crimson light.

The white-haired warrior took a defensive stance and unsheathed his weapon, enchanted blade glimmering in the conflicting colors of red and green.

The elder's clawed fingers dug deep into his palm, drawing his own blood and bringing forth his eldritch whip.

Last time, the castle had tried – admittedly, with success – converting his own legions against him, forcing even the most loyal vampire to forget who its master and lord was.

A second later, and a deformed hand formed out of the boiling substance, clawing fruitlessly at the air, as it quickly grew with detail. A hulking beast emerged from the depths, a grotesque monstrosity Dracul had never seen before. It had six skeletal limbs, each ending with a pincer, skinless muscles, and an eyeless muzzle. Blood dripped from its throbbing hide, flowing down like streams. They appeared not to have an end, streaming infinitely, as the floor absorbed the fluid, hungrily, till the last drop. The beast opened its vicious maw, showing off several rows of rotten teeth, and roared.

"Do not trust the demon-imposter." An amalgamation of a thousand voices of the castle echoed in his ears.

"He's planning to dethrone you, my Lord."

"We've imprisoned him for a reason."

"Come with us, my Liege!"

The scarlet whip whistled through the air, colliding with its target and leaving a pulsating wound in the monster's tissue, immediately reducing its screech to a pathetic whimper. The vampire lowered his hand: the attack was a warning. A warning for the castle not to become tangled in their affairs.

The beast reeled and promptly shrugged off the hit, as, at the same time, the vampire gasped with sudden pain. Beads of blood rolled off his chest, trickling from a freshly-made rupture. A thought flashed through his mind. A blood fiend! The thing was made out of his own ichor! Apparently, the castle had come up with a better plan instead of sending waves of lesser vampires and mindless skeletons. He must watch them from afar, if he was to avoid injuring himself. Gabriel wasn't surprised; the castle had attempted something similar in the past, but not as open and bold as this encounter.

"We had no choice, my Prince!" The castle's pleas pulsed in his mind. "It was the only way!"

"Damn that influence to the bowels of Sheol!" he hissed, involuntarily stepping back.

"What happened?" Alucard questioned, shooting a worried glance in his direction.

"It has assured I wouldn't fight these creatures!"

"And the reli-" Alucard broke off as he ducked under the beast's claw. It might have shielded itself from any incoming attacks, but it certainly had trouble manipulating its lumbering form. With a trained warrior's eye, Gabriel noticed that the younger vampire had plenty of opportunities to counterattack and dispose of the monster, but, ultimately, he had decided against it. An unaccustomed feeling of uncertainty surged through his mind.

After another parry, the Wolf rammed his gauntlet-clad fist into its stomach, toppling the much-taller beast off its legs. Alucard dashed back, still holding the Crissaegrim aloft. Did the beast return all of his attacks, or was it vulnerable to magic?

"Do not interfere, Alucard!"

"Please, don't make us use force!"

As the beast squealed, its cries echoing off the fervently painted hallway, Dracul's blade blinked into existence, hushing and drowning out any other color around it. Hoarfrost began drawing wondrous patterns as the tip of the sword dug into the floor. Dracul traced a complete circle with it, aiming, and reaped the air before the monster in a singular vertical cut.

Void slid off the surface of the sword, materializing into a tangible frozen fire. The blaze enveloped the beast, momentarily chaining all of its limbs with a shell of purple ice. He patiently waited for an aftershock, but none followed. Indeed, the being was immobilized, its bloody hide in perfect condition.

"It would seem it reflects only physical blows dealt to its body," Dracul noted, lowering the blade, but not unsummoning it. He approached the frozen being, scrutinizing its features. "Truly disgusting. The castle's obstinacy knows no bounds."

"Indeed, it is in abundance here." Alucard sheathed his sword. "But the problem is still unsolved: how can we get rid of this... this..."

"Blood fiend."

"Blood fiend?"

"It is composed of my blood," the former knight elaborated. "And seeing as I draw my strength from it, basically, leads to a backlash every time I strike it. I have suffered through something similar before."

"How so?" Alucard's back remained stiff, despite his seemingly relaxed posture.

Dracul shuddered, distaste curling his lips. "Earlier this night, the castle conjured the image of one of the late Lords, Carmilla. And... No, this isn't important! If summed up, she had tested my physical abilities."

Trevor nodded, smirking just a bit. "It's a curious sight to spy you uncomfortable, Father."

"Uncomfortable, indeed," he muttered. "Anyway, we have larger problems. The castle has found a way to cripple me. It knows perfectly I would not battle against this foul spawn if I wish to retain my individuality."

"I thought you'd decided to shelve your death." Alucard's eyes brimmed with disquiet. "Why would it grow this desperate if nothing threatens its existence?"

"I am slowly, but steadily, beginning to shed the thoughts it keeps planting in my mind." The elder looked away. "Ones of ferocity and fury. Hence, I resist its call. It might be uppish enough to lead a revolt, but without me, it is nothing. And it knows it."

Alucard did not reply, but the heartwarming glimmer reflecting in his golden eyes said everything he needed to know. A weak smile twitched the corners of his mouth.

"Perhaps I can destroy the creature; no bond connects me with the castle's being." He idly fingered the hilt of his weapon. "Crissaegrim saps away magic, so it shouldn't affect you."

"Yes, I remember that peculiar ability of your sword quite well. Can't say I've recovered my strength completely. Well, my hands are tied, and time is of the essence... Proceed as you will."

The enchanted blade slithered out of its scabbard with a metallic hiss as it jumped obediently into the younger vampire's hands. The weapon must be at least partially sentient, then, Dracul concluded. He didn't know much about how and when his son had procured such a sword. He only understood that Alucard had used the broken stake of the Vampire Killer as its hilt, hence its spell-draining attacks.

Gabriel mentally prepared himself for the being to retaliate as the warrior approached the paralyzed beast. The last sting had hurt, despite it being just a shallow, unfocused hit.

Alucard's sigh echoed through the air, when at last he swept through the monster's abdomen, cleaving it neatly into two.

A horrific screech filled the stuffy air, and the former knight startled at the sheer viciousness of the attack. Alucard had repeated the execution move he had utilized as Zobek's Lieutenant. Back then, he had carved one of Lucifer's demons to ribbons.

The elder peered down at the floor. No pain followed after his son had dealt the blow, yet he felt uneasy at the way Alucard had chosen to tear asunder the mindless creature. Undeath was a curse, and he had shown more control over his untamed, monstrous side than Dracul could ever hope, but still hints of it seeped through Trevor's carefully fitted armor.

"It is done." The warrior shook the red droplets off of his blade before sheathing it away. "Shall we proceed?"

"Yes, of course," Dracul nodded. "We've loitered long enough."

"So, this is the Forgotten One's power?" The elder raised an eyebrow. "How peculiar."

He watched the entity warily as the ectoplasmic being bobbed up and down in the air with regular intervals. Its shifting colors – an intriguing mixture of matte green and intense violet – seemed to fill the very air with their flamboyance. It was as if the undertones were... sentient, locked in an eternal dance. Dracul had a feeling, if he would have reached out, he could feel the colors surge around his hand like a gentle breeze, intangible and palpable at the same time. This celebration, he thought, could create entire landscapes, bring forth existing creatures or forge new ones from scratch. What could have been undone by the Void, Creation could beget. What Chaos could have razed to the ground, Harmony could put back into order.

The colors had broken their flow at the sound of his voice, further proving his theory. Anticipating something. Anticipation meant intelligence. The Forgotten One had mentioned Creation and Harmony being his secondary powers, yet they radiated with such unknown intensity that it made his skin crawl. Moreover, the entities were aware of their presence now. For better, or worse, they still had to find out.

The unknown entity's visage – or something akin to it – distorted, sending the colorful spirits astray. In a moment, the dance stopped, bluntly and unexpectedly. The specters formed two circles around the being in the center, both moving counterclockwise at different speed.

"Aesor ur?" the being intoned, genderless voice echoing off the walls. Though its voice lacked any emotion, Dracul could sense hidden displeasure in the movement pattern of the spirits. It was rigid... nothing like their spiral dance before. His hands curled into fists.

"Saba? Ecral?" it questioned, shifting a bit closer. "Stelahru saba-aio ecral uvihr. Aekubon uvihr te Ieoroch. Glohro Ieoroch?"

"Ieoroch?" the elder repeated, eyes narrowing.

"And this... is ancient Enochian," the Forgotten One suddenly pronounced, forcing the vampire to flinch. "My secondary powers are sentient; ergo, they're rather squeamish. Forgot to mention this. You better talk to it. See if you can persuade it to come with you to-" the demon's voice died out before he could finish his sentence; evidently in his current state he could not hold an even conversation.

"Ieoroch!" the creature squeaked, its features flickering.

"Ancient Enochian?" Dracul wavered. "Ieoroch... you mean the Forgotten One?"

A bright pulse warped the specters around the being. "Ur."

"I guess that's a 'yes'," Dracul concluded, albeit with hesitation. "We're acting on his behalf. We're here to reunite you with your master."

"Ieoroch doi," it replied, once again bobbing up and down.

"How do we ferry you?"

"Saba. Ecral." The entity's visage rippled. "Saba aio ecral phele simula te acou aio lohn."

"'Simula?' As in 'simulacrum?'" The vampire rubbed the nape of his neck. "Images... could you be referring to my powers, Chaos and Void?"

"Perhaps, they mean they can be transported using Chaos and Void?" Alucard suggested, gazing at the translucent specters.

"The demon had said it would be unwise to come into contact with this energy."

"Come into contact, yes. But, what about... nudging them in the right direction?"

"Or perhaps they're telling me not to use it. It could engulf the entire room in an inferno."

"You're saying this as if you can die, Father." Alucard snorted. "Plus, fire to you is as harmful as water to a human."

Dracul tried glowering at his progeny for this quip, but, instead, found himself smirking. Truly, the warrior's lighthearted smile was contagious and he savored the moment. Rarely did he get to see his son so delighted. "Mock the elderly now, do you?"

Trevor rewarded him with an unimpressed glance, the remnants of his earlier grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's my favorite pastime, old man."

"Do not be presumptuous, boy. Fine, for you, I'll try." He sighed and laughed softly to himself. "You did cull the beast without spilling my insides. More of a reason to trust your judgment."

Unlike the sword, locked away secure in a pocket dimension, his infernal gloves were always with him. The Chaos Claws roared into life, coiling around his wrists and covering his arms up to his elbows in a fiery shell. He flexed the gauntlets, sending drops of liquid fire into every direction. Where they met the ground, the floor hissed and cracked under the intense heat.

"I'm curious," Dracul said, as the specters gathered around the magical talons. "How did you know the castle's curse wouldn't retort to the blow you landed upon the creature?"

To his disappointment, only the purple-tinned ghosts swirled around his hands – their headless bodies seemed to dim out as they passed through the hot air - whilst the ones radiating with lush green stayed behind, unaffected. So, the violet must be the representation of Harmony.

Mindful not to let the specters soar too close to the flames, he took a small step back. When the spirits moved after him without delay, he let out a small hum.

"Opposites attract, huh," Dracul mused, glancing at his son. "Take my blade to guide the Creation energy. I hear, you're quite familiar with it."

"Dual-wielding is not exactly my preferred style," Alucard chuckled, masterfully catching the sword with one hand. "And yours isn't as perfectly balanced as mine."

The elder arched a dismissive eyebrow at him, trying to appear as disdainful as he possibly could. Although, he knew not if he had succeeded.

They trekked in silence for a bit, each pulling on his own string of the incorporeal being, the impersonation of the Forgotten One's power.

"To answer your earlier question. I'm not completely sure," Alucard suddenly spoke up after a while. "I know Crissaegrim effectively absorbs nearly all types of magic. But would it affect whatever power the castle's utilizing against you... I must admit, it was a Russian roulette and I apologize."

"A what?" The elder vampire perked up.

"Ah, I forget. It is a game of chance. One places a single bullet into the cylinder of a gun, puts it to his head, and pulls the trigger. One-sixth is your chance of blowing your head clean off your shoulders. I read it was invented as a way for soldiers to deal with mental strain during the first World War."

The elder's eyes widened at hearing the 'rules' of the game. However, he quickly composed himself. "Toying with death." He sneered. "I guess, Zobek had had quite a lot on his shoulders."

"Not anymore." Alucard shrugged.

"Not anymore," Dracul repeated. The words had never tasted so sweet.